


Operation Save Christmas

by estei



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Everybody Lives, Except Pentecost, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 00:48:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5607349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estei/pseuds/estei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chuck is on a mission to save Christmas. </p><p>Yeah, it’s weird for him, too. He quickly finds himself out of his depth, so he enlists the help of his father and Mako. Predictably, chaos ensues.</p><p>(I don't even know what happened here - written mostly on a chocolate/carb high over the span of four days, sooo.... brace yourself for utter foolishness)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Operation Save Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GutterBall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GutterBall/gifts).



> For GutterBall, because without the encouragement about those "Jesus wept" moments this might not have made it past 6000 words in a WIP folder. Also because it was your fic that inspired me to try my hand at writing about these delightful nerds :)

There are days when Chuck can hardly believe the direction his life has taken after Pitfall. He’d spent so much of his youth and young adulthood grappling with his own mortality, knowing that each deployment could be his last, it wasn’t surprising that he hadn’t given much consideration to what his life could be like _after_ , if he did somehow manage to survive. Still, if someone had approached him in the weeks before Pitfall and suggested that he would one day be in a (mostly) healthy and (definitely) committed relationship with Raleigh Becket, well, blows would have been exchanged, he knows that with a certainty.

Chucks knows that most people look at his relationship with Raleigh and make any number of assumptions, the foremost being that Raleigh is a long suffering saint who some unknown reasons has decided to shoulder the burden of Chuck’s temper and crotchety nature. Thanks to many arduous hours of therapy, Chuck possesses enough self-awareness to recognize there is some truth to that particular assumption. Only a handful of people see the work that Chuck puts into their relationship, the care he pays to Raleigh’s PTSD and insomnia, and the antics Raleigh brings to their relationship. But Chuck likes it that way. He likes being one of the privileged few to know that Raleigh is a ruthless cheat at cards, that he is equally ruthless at using pouty puppy expressions to get his way in things, and is just as stubborn as Chuck when he wants to be.

If he’s honest, Chuck is as baffled as anyone as to how they work together, by all rights, they shouldn’t. But they do, and Chuck is as determined to not fuck it up as he ever was to become a pilot. A future without Raleigh by his side is one he can no longer contemplate, and he knows Raleigh feels the same way.

Still, some concessions are harder than others and there’s no better example of Chuck’s saintly contribution to their relationship than the holidays. To say that the Becket’s had a slavish devotion to the Christmas spirit might be putting it mildly. Last year they’d spent the holidays in Australia, Herc and Yancy had been stationed at the Sydney Shatterdome on official business and wherever they went Raleigh, Chuck and Mako were rarely far behind. There was always some excuse that required the presence of all five former pilots, so much so that the media had taken to calling them ‘The PPDC Family.’ Chuck had assumed the heat and sand and sunshine would put a damper on his boyfriend’s holiday spirit, but he was sadly mistaken. A suitable tree was procured, eggnog and rum was consumed, reindeer antlers were worn, and as much as Chuck hated to admit it, a good time was had by all. Yancy and Raleigh together were a formidable duo and they were all grateful that their evil machinations were limited to ridiculous head gear and elaborate (and expensively imported) decorations.

This year official business had taken them stateside for the latter half of the year, and Chuck has been bracing himself since the first hints of autumn. The promise of a white Christmas seemed certain to kick the Becket merriment into high gear, not to mention the overwhelming domesticity of their living arrangements. As their meetings would often take them to New York City and Washington, they’d elected to hunker down in a small Maryland town with easy access to the Amtrak lines. Raleigh and Chuck had opted to rent a bungalow near the bay with a fenced back yard for Max and two spare bedrooms for those nights when Yancy or Mako or even Herc didn’t want to bother waiting for the town’s small cab service to travel back to their respective condos.

Lately Yancy has been traveling more and more, weekends away on business that he never really explains, but Raleigh doesn’t ask any questions and Chuck doesn’t want to push for curiosity’s sake. Raleigh’s relationship with Yancy is the one thing Chuck knows he can’t push, just as Raleigh knows the same about him and Herc. Yancy isn’t in town for Thanksgiving, but neither is Herc. Raleigh had never expressed an interest in the holiday, but he does seem a bit quiet. Mako plies them both with cocktails of increasingly vibrant colours and they end up passed out on the air mattress in her living room.

Chuck starts bracing himself for the inevitable as the days tick into December and snow blankets the streets. He researches the best tree farms in the area since Raleigh will likely want the full Christmas experience and Chuck doesn’t want a sub-par tree in his home if there has to be one. He considers the layout of the front room while he and Raleigh are curled up on the couch. Raleigh is dozing, his head in Chuck’s lap, and as Chuck strokes his fingers through Raleigh’s soft hair he decides the best place for a tree is in front of the picture window. It won’t be much work to re-arrange the furniture and the lights from the tree will look nice and inviting from the front walk. He thinks it will make for a welcoming sight after Max’s late night constitutionals. He still doesn’t get the holidays, but he’ll make the best of it. Raleigh’s keeping mum about it, but something has been bothering him, keeping him up at night and putting strain at the edges of his smile. Chuck hasn’t pushed him on it yet, though he has discussed the situation with Mako, but he’s determined to play along with the Christmas cheer with all the good humour he can muster.

So he’s a bit at a loss when December arrives and there’s nary a garland or sprig of holly to be seen around the bungalow.

“You gonna let me in on the plan for Christmas this year?” Chuck asks after days several perplexing days of radio silence on the matter. Truthfully, he’s hoping that getting into the spirit of the season will shake off the funk Raleigh’s been carrying.

Raleigh had been carrying the chopping board to the stove, but now he hesitates before dumping the chopped vegetables into the heated skillet. He keeps his back to Chuck and there’s a tension in his shoulders that’s setting off every alarm bell Chuck has.

“Oh, well, I was thinking we’d do something more low key this year.” Raleigh says.

“And by low key…” Chuck says.

“Just, you know, keep it simple. Herc mentioned that we might be wrapping up after January so it doesn’t make sense to bring a lot of stuff into the house when we’ll just be packing everything up anyway. Like, getting a tree and decorations would be a hassle.” Raleigh shrugs, but Chuck is no fool. This is some grade A bullshit right here. A hassle would hardly describe the hoopla they went through last year to deck the house in Sydney, and since the bungalow came furnished there’s hardly anything to pack, even with presents and decorations added to the mix.

“No tree? I thought that was against the rules,” Chuck says lightly. He wants to put his hands on Raleigh’s shoulders, rub that tension out, but his boyfriend is pretty clearly throwing out “stay back” vibes and he has no interest in starting a row with the bloke. Instead he leaned on the kitchen island and munched casually on the sliced carrots set aside for the stir fry.

“There aren’t rules,” Raleigh huffs, but when he cranes to look at Chuck there’s a smile on his face. Until he sees Chuck eating his dinner ingredients, that is. “Hey!” Indignant, Raleigh crosses the room and smacks Chuck’s hand with his spatula.

“Oi, I was just checking for freshness,” Chucks laughs, sliding his arms around Raleigh’s waist and pulling him close enough for a kiss. Raleigh goes willingly, and sighs happily when their lips part. He meets Chuck’s gaze steadily and strokes a palm up the curve of his bicep.

“Yancy’s not going to be in town for Christmas, and I know it’s not your thing, so it just doesn’t make sense to go all out this year.” he says, and Chuck’s grip tightens reflexively as the words register. His mind is fairly whirling as he tries to figure out what could keep Yancy away from his brother at such an important time. Chuck knows without a doubt that Herc would never allow PPDC business to interfere in this way, and he can only guess that the mysterious business that has been pulling Yancy away is to blame.

“And where will Yancy be?” Chuck asks, aiming for a neutral tone but probably missing by a mile if the way Raleigh pulls away is any indication.

“Boston,” Raleigh says, returning to his attention to their dinner, stirring the contents of the skillet and staring intently down at the stove top.

“Boston,” Chuck returns, tone flat. The past few weeks are suddenly starting to make a lot more sense and now he’s worried and frustrated and _hurt_ , damnit. Goddamn Beckets and their fucking secrets and their closed off walls, all the while pretending to be open books and… Chuck takes a steadying breath. “I thought you weren’t in touch with Jazmine.”

If Chuck knew better than to try and insert himself into the Becket brothers relationship, he was twice as wary about offering a comment on the situation with the Becket sister. He only knew the bare bones of the story, and much of it from Shatterdome scuttlebutt, but even that was enough to know it was a right complicated mess.

In the aftermath of Knifehead, when Gipsy had barely made it back to shore with Yancy dangling precariously half in, half out of the conn-pod, Jazmine had rushed to Anchorage and stayed by her brother’s side through what was by all accounts a grueling recovery. Rumour had it that the trouble started when the Becket boys refused the brass’s offer of a medical discharge with full pension and benefits and instead opted to return to active service. The screaming match that ensued between the two younger Becket’s became PPDC lore, and the only time Raleigh ever spoke of the estrangement to Chuck all he had to say about it was that he’d fucked up big time. One night in Sydney when Raleigh and Herc had been stuck in Hong Kong, sitting in the backyard after a couple pitchers of Mako’s pina coladas, Yancy had been a bit more verbose.

“We were all scared and traumatized and pretty fucked up and we took it out on each other, instead of trying to work it out,” Yancy had ruminated morosely. “Jaz was just a kid, and we were the only family she had, and suddenly it was all real. Those first few weeks, we were really fucked up and she had to watch that, and she was so tough, but she was still just a kid. She didn’t understand why we wouldn’t quit and go home with her, why we’d risk leaving her behind. I mean, can you blame her? So she said if we went back out there that she wouldn’t be waiting.” Yancy had stared out into the darkness, seemingly unaware that Chuck and Mako were even there. “We didn’t handle it right, but she wasn’t wrong, either. We did leave her behind.”

Chuck hadn’t known what to say then, and he wasn’t any more enlightened now. Truthfully, he didn’t like to think about the estranged Becket sister because it reminded him painfully of all the hurdles he and his old man had been working so hard to overcome. It was all too easy to see Jazmine Becket’s point of view, even though he knows he would have judged the brothers for choosing retirement at such a time of need.

And if they were mending fences, well, that was a good thing, but it stung that Raleigh hadn’t bothered to mention something so important. He knew that both brothers had reached out to Jazmine in the spring when they realized how close they’d be to her current home, and that each had been rebuffed.

“I’m not in touch with Jaz,” Raleigh says, obviously stumbling over the familiar nickname. “Yancy is.” His knuckles were starting to turn white with the strain of his grip on the spatula.

“What?” Chuck says dumbly. The alarm bells are getting louder and he is starting to feel grossly under-prepared for this conversation. He spares a moment to wish Mako was here, he could certainly use the back up and she always has a way of knowing exactly when Chuck is about to put his foot in it.

“You heard me,” Raleigh snaps, finally ditching the pretense of composure. “They ran into each other at the fucking Met of all places, in November. Yance was there for that meeting with Herc and there was an exhibit at the Met, this sculptor and he and Jaz used to go on about, and Jaz happened to be in town for a conference and,” he stirs the contents of the skillet a little too hard and half the chicken and vegetables slop out the side. “Goddamnit!”

“Oi, leave the damn cooking,” Chuck exclaims, crossing the room quickly to turn off the element on the stove before leading Raleigh to sit on one of the barstools at the island. He’s shocked to find that Raleigh is trembling under his palms and he doesn’t hesitate to step in close and pull him in until his face is cradled in the curve of Chuck’s neck. “Sweetheart, why didn’t you say anything?”

“Didn’t know what to say,” Raleigh says, leaning into Chuck’s embrace. “Sorry,” he adds. Chuck lays a hand on his nape, rubbing the hollow behind Raleigh’s ear with his thumb.

“I get it,” Chuck allows, because he does. The biggest danger to their relationship is their collective inability to talk about their feelings. “I’m not happy you’ve been keeping this to yourself, but I’m glad you’re telling me now.”

“It freaks me out when you’re the mature one,” Raleigh laughs a little, and Chuck huffs.

“Me too, so knock it off why don’t ya?” he softens the rebuke by sweeping his other hand up and down the length of Raleigh’s spine. Raleigh doesn’t seem to want to offer more than that, and Chuck isn’t going to push. He waits until he can feel Raleigh relax fully into his embrace before he speaks again. “So we’ll do a quiet Christmas, just us.” And Max, and the old man, and Mako, he adds to himself. Between the four of them they should be able to salvage something of the holidays for the man in his arms.

 

* * *

 

 

Let it not be said that Chuck Hansen doesn’t learn from his mistakes, so he reminds himself to play it cool as he raps his knuckles briefly against the white paneled door. It’s a formality, Yancy knows he’s coming, had to buzz him into the building, but after growing up in ‘domes if there’s one thing Chuck respects, its personal space. You never enter someone’s quarters without permission, and when the point of the visit runs good odds of turning contentious, it’s a good idea to bring an alcoholic peace offering. Hence, Chuck is carrying a 12-pack of a godawful Belgian stout that Yancy loves.

Yancy winces as soon as he sees the beer. “I guess he told you about Jaz,” he says.

“Gonna let me in?” Chuck cocks an eyebrow, and Yancy shuffles back out of the doorway.

“Where’s Raleigh?” he asks, aiming for casual and missing by a mile or ten.

“He and Mako are having on their tea party things, seemed like a good idea to clear out.” Chuck says, as if he hasn’t been waiting for an excuse to interrogate Yancy all damned week. That said, he’d have been given the boot anyway. Chuck doesn’t entirely get it, but every week or so Mako comes over with a book and she and Raleigh settle on opposite sides of the couch with their respective books and read quietly while drinking chamomile tea. Soft, fuzzy blankets are also integral to the process, and also apparently Chuck’s very presence in the house can be disruptive.

“There’s some cold IPA in the fridge,” Yancy calls as he makes his way into the living room, trusting Chuck to sort the drinks. There’s a slight pause in his gait that tells Chuck his hip is acting up again. After Knifehead, Yancy had recovered enough to get back in the conn-pod for three more years, but eventually the strain of piloting became too much, and he’d transitioned into a command position alongside Pentecost while Raleigh went through compatibility trials. This was a very neat way of describing a six month period that had left physical and emotional scars on both brothers. Terrified of watching Raleigh deploy without him, complicated by feelings of failure, Yancy hadn’t left active service easily, or quietly, and it often ended with Raleigh bearing the brunt of his frustrations. And Raleigh, who had struggled with accepting another co-pilot, wasn’t exactly innocent of the same behavior.

Mako had been wholly unexpected, by the Beckets and the brass, Pentecost especially, but she proved to be more than capable of handling the situation. To this day, Chuck doesn’t think any other pilot could have accomplished what she did, both in and out of the conn-pod. Her unassuming but undeniably strong manner had immediately disarmed Yancy, and to say that Raleigh had followed her like a love-struck puppy was still fairly accurate.

As a senior officer with eight kills on his jacket, Chuck had respected Yancy from the get-go, and worked fairly easily alongside him. It was Raleigh he clashed with, often to Yancy’s amusement, and so Chuck was wholly unprepared for the protective older brother act when he and Raleigh finally sorted their shit and started dating proper.

So when it comes to Yancy and Raleigh’s relationship he maintains a fairly strict policy of staying the fuck out of it, but this situation is fairly atypical, and needs must, and all.

He fetches the bottle opener from the second drawer next to the stove, and uses the moment to try and gather his thoughts. But he’s still Chuck Hansen, so his opening salvo doesn’t end up as diplomatic as he’d hoped.

“So what the fuck is going on?” He ambles into the living room and holds out a bottle of the stout for Yancy, who is sitting in the armchair next to the sofa. The TV is on, but muted, a hockey game flashing across the screen. Not his favourite, but after three laborious months, Chuck finally knows enough about hockey to maintain a decent conversation.

“What did Rals tell you?” Yancy takes a long pull from the beer, and taps the remote control against his thigh. Chuck takes a smaller drink from his own bottle, and shrugs.

“Fuck all, really. Reckon I’m lucky he mentioned it at all.” He can’t keep the grumble out of his tone, and Yancy’s eyes cut to him.

“It’s complicated,” He says firmly, and Chuck can’t help but snort.

“Mate, don’t think you Becket’s have the market cornered when it comes to family drama. You don’t have to tell me the whole sob story, but I need…” Chuck pauses, and covers for it by taking another sip of his beer.

“Need what?” Yancy pushes, always fucking pushing, that one.

“I need to make this okay for Raleigh,” Chuck says, and he watches as Yancy deflates. He stays quiet, and Yancy starts plucking at the label on the bottle.

“They had a pretty bad fight, the last time they talked, and Jaz just isn’t ready… She wasn’t expecting to see me, it just happened. If Rals had been with me, this probably wouldn’t even be an issue, but she’s just warming up to me being around again. I think she just needs time, and I don’t want to fuck this up and lose her again for another five years.” Yancy sounds old, old and tired and Chuck realizes that he’s just trying to do right by his family, but like every other sorry oaf out there he hasn’t got all the answers, and is just taking shots in the dark and hoping it turns out alright.

“Right,” Chuck swallows. “How’s that going?”

“Okay, I think,” Yancy’s voice is getting stronger now, and he’s nodding, almost to himself. “She invited me to her place for Christmas. I couldn’t say no. I asked her about coming here, said she could stay with me, but it’s too soon, and I get that. She wants things on her turf, feels more comfortable that way. He said he understood.”

“He does,” Chuck says. “But, it still sucks.”

“Yeah,” Yancy sighs. “Jaz doesn’t have anyone, you know? We’re her older brothers, it was supposed to be our job to look out for her.”

“You saved the damn world, mate. Without you and Raleigh and Mako, we couldn’t have done it. So you did look out for her, just maybe not the way she wanted.” Chuck says, and looks away when Yancy swallows hard.

“I think she gets that now,” he says. “But it doesn’t make it hurt less.”

“Yeah, it never does,” Chuck agrees, gruffly. Goddamn Beckets and their _feelings_.

“So I’ll be in Boston, from the 21 til the 26, not even a week. And Rals has you guys. Just, you know, try and be a good sport about the holidays stuff.” Yancy offers.

“Er, well, that’s the thing,” Chuck says, almost hesitant. He has some idea about how this will go over. “He said he didn’t want to do any holiday stuff this year.”

Sure enough, Yancy flinches, like Chuck has struck him. “Oh,” he says.

“But you’re not wrong. Raleigh has me, and Mako, and the old man. We’ll sort it out.” Chuck says decisively. Yancy actually looks relieved, like he believes Chuck can handle things, and that’s not a bad feeling. Chuck doesn’t know what else Yancy could tell him, or vice versa, and since they’ve likely exceeded a lifetime’s quota of emotions in one swoop, Chuck takes pity on them both and nods toward the screen. “So your team might not be swept out before the new year, after all,” and Yancy jumps for the lifeline with gratitude.

 

* * *

 

 

By December 20 Chuck is starting to have serious doubts about the mission, which he has taken to calling Operation Save Christmas, if only in his own mind. Raleigh is doubling down on the whole acting bit, going so far as to offer to drive Yancy to the train station the next day, and not a scrap of Christmas has appeared in the bungalow. Chuck has scarcely had a night of uninterrupted sleep, either waking due to Raleigh’s restless movements or to find the bed empty and long cold.

When even Mako admits that she was looking forward to the festivities, Chuck decides that it’s long past time to take matters into Hansen, and Mori, hands. Which is how the trio ends up in the middle of a sprawling parking lot turned Christmas tree lot on the Saturday morning before Christmas. Practically mummified by cold weather gear, they survey the crowded scene with a shared sense of trepidation perhaps more suited to a kaiju deployment.

“Right then,” Herc claps his mittened hands together. “Mission parameters?”

“According to my research we should stick to a fir variety, Douglas, Basalm or Fraser. A traditional Christmas tree type that is quite hardy and keeps its needles,” Mako says decisively.

“I measured the ceiling of the front room this morning, and we should aim for something around six feet,” Chuck nods. “It has to be perfect, yeah? Good shape, no holes, no droopy branches.” He glances at the crowd, can feel the desperation of his fellow last minute shoppers. “Violence as a last resort,” he adds. Mako wrinkles her nose primly, but Herc nods, his expression serious and almost grim.

“Alright,” he says. “Let’s get this done.”

As it turns out, the biggest threat to their success is Chuck’s indecisiveness. Almost immediately they are approached by a cheerful lot attendant who seems almost suspiciously happy to explain the different varieties and pull potential trees from the racks they’re set against. His good humor doesn’t dim, even when Chuck asks to see the same tree five times. Even after discounting the pine and spruce varieties, there’s still a sea of options, and they all look the same.

“Son, reckon any of these trees would be good enough, yeah?” Herc asks when Chuck shows no sign of being closer to making a decision. Four almost identical trees have been brought to the forefront for their consideration and Chuck is starting to feel like his stomach might be upset.

“I don’t want good enough, old man,” Chuck sneers, trying to hide how panicked he’s starting to feel. What if he gets it wrong? What if Raleigh doesn’t like Fraser Firs? How is one supposed to know which tree is the right one?

“Oh, I forgot! I’ve got another Fraser out front, about the same size. Let me grab it for you,” the attendant strides off, the pom-pom of his hat waving at them as he moves.

“Chuck, you don’t have to worry. I am sure Raleigh will be pleased with any tree we get.” Mako says quietly. Chuck counts it as a serious sign of personal growth that he doesn’t tell her right off, and instead just clenches his gloved fingers into fists.

“Right, yeah,” he says, and then stops because the attendant is lugging the most perfect, green, bushy tree in his arms and Chuck feels a warmth fill his belly, like a swallow of hot tea. “Ace,” he grins, and chooses to ignore the relieved glances exchanged all around. “We’ll take it.”

Of course, there’s still the matter of lights, decorations, a tree stand, and a truly unholy assortment of bits and bobs that still need to be procured, but Chuck is starting to feel like they just might be able to pull this off.

That feeling is short lived.

“Oi, steady the fucking trolley!” Chuck bellows as his knees knock into the shopping trolley and it starts to roll away from him. His arms are laden with boxes of lights and he can feel them wobbling in his sweaty grip. The layers that had been so necessary during the Christmas tree shopping are now working against him in the crowded shop. Herc lifts a foot to halt it’s movement and Chuck grateful divests himself of his cargo with a huff, balefully meeting the annoyed gaze of a fellow shopper who has obviously taken issue with his outburst. She’s pushing her own trolley, but unlike Chuck she is more appropriately attired in a fleece vest with a candy cane pin on her lapel. Her mouth is pursed and Chuck can tell she wants to lay into him, but after a moment of tense glaring, she sniffs and moves along. Grinning to himself, he turns and immediately tries to school his expression into something more neutral when he catches matching disapproving frowns from his companions. “What?” he barks.

“Think you’ve got enough lights there?” Herc asks mildly. Chuck reaches up to scratch at his temple.

“Christ, I don’t know, but I’m not coming back so I’d rather get too many.” His internet searches on how many feet of light strands were needed to decorate a six foot tree had not yielded promising results. Most of the comments were along the lines of “depends on how many lights you want on the tree.” It seemed like the type of thing you didn’t want to cock up.

“You got me there,” Herc says, looking increasingly harassed. Chuck’s pretty chuffed that he’s been so patient and willing to go along with the madness. For the past decade, their Christmas tradition had involved a shot of the hard stuff once Chuck was in his teenaged years and a viewing of _Die Hard_.

“We should go now,” Mako announces as she quick steps down the aisle toward them, arms looped around a bright red metal tree stand. It looks comically large clasped to her chest, and she darts a glance behind her. “This is the last tree stand in the store. There was… competition.”

“Oh bloody hell,” Herc mutters as a red faced man in a Santa jumper comes barreling around the corner.

 

* * *

 

 

Chuck isn’t sure if he’s relieved or disappointed when they pull up the house and see that the bungalow is dark and the Jeep isn’t in the drive.

“He should have been home by now,” Chuck can’t help but worry, just a little bit, as they unload the tree and supplies from the back of Herc’s truck.

“Probably just clearing his head,” Herc offers, grunting as they maneuver the tree up the stoop.

“Oi, watch the branches!” Chuck cries as they stuff it through the front door with perhaps too much vigour. Herc shoots him a long-suffering look, but doesn’t respond otherwise. Probably for the best, it wouldn’t do for them to come to blows over Operation Save Christmas.

To that end, once the tree has been wrangled into the stand and positioned in front of the picture window Herc retreats to the kitchen, muttering vaguely about drinks. In a true display of charity, Chuck ignored the look of blatant betrayal Mako shoots in his father’s direction as he leaves the room fast enough to give the impression of a cartoon trail of dust in his wake.

“Alright, Mori,” Chuck says grimly. “Let’s get this done. The lights go on first.”

Mako nods, determination writ in her stance, though they both falter when they turn to face the towering pile of boxes. It was Mako’s suggestion to go with clear lights, and as they wind the strands around the tree Chuck thinks that she made the right call. He also quickly realizes that he might not have as many leftover lights as he imagined, they’ve already used 45 feet and have just made it to the middle.

Chuck may have been indecisive about the tree itself, but Mako is meticulous in the placement of the ornaments and garland. The real issue is the ribbon. They both liked the idea of looping festive ribbon around the tree but in practice it was turning out much more difficult. It didn’t drape properly and trying to achieve the perfect, and consistent, twist was damned near impossible.

“You are pulling it too tight,” Mako hisses as Chuck tries to tug the ribbon into place.

“It looks stupid when it’s too swoopy, looks like it’s about to fall off,” Chuck returns, pulling harder, and the tree rocks ominously. “Oh, fuck,” he cries, momentarily forgetting about the ribbon and reaching between the branches to steady it. Once he’s assured himself that disaster has been averted, he glances back at Mako and sees her standing with the ribbon clutched in both fists, almost like she’s about to try and garrote him with it. “Er,” Chuck starts, but is saved when Herc appears holding two tumblers.

“Sounds like you lot could use a festive drink,” Herc says, and honestly, Chuck couldn’t agree more, and it looks like Mako’s not about to argue either by the haste in which she accepts her glass. Chuck doesn’t bother with a close inspection, just takes a hearty swallow and almost chokes as it burns all the way down.

“What,” he gasps, and Herc shrugs mildly.

“Mighta gone a bit heavy on the rum,” he says. He’s not drinking any himself, probably because he knows one glass will put him straight over the driving limit.

“A bit?” Chuck retorts, but he can’t deny it tastes damned good when imbibed in smaller doses. By the time Herc has plied them with refills the process gets a lot more fun, and Chuck is drunk enough to be charmed when Mako re-arranges almost every ornament he places on the tree.

Obviously deeming it safe, Herc returns to the living room with a cup of tea in hand. He grins when he sees Mako and Chuck, elbowing each other with good nature as they survey their work. “Looks great,” Herc beams.

“Yes,” Mako says. “This was a very good idea, Chuck.” She smiles at him, small and warm, and the alcohol is obviously catching up to him because Chuck can’t hope to hide how chuffed he is by her comments.

“Well, couldna done it without both of ya,” he shrugs, and isn’t the least bit surprised when Mako nods in agreement.

“Oh, forgot one,” Herc says suddenly, setting his tea done and rooting through one of the shopping bags still on the couch. He pulls something out and turns it over in his hands, shielding it from view as he steps up to tree. Chuck and Mako both follow his progress avidly, out of interest, but also in concern that he is about to disrupt their work. Chuck is damned near speechless when Herc steps back to reveal a palm sized ornament of a bulldog wearing a red and white scarf and reindeer antlers.

“Oh,” Mako claps her hands in delight, and Chuck can’t help the smirk that blooms on his face as Herc _blushes_ and shifts his weight.

“Well, for Max,” he says gruffly.

“Of course,” Chuck nods. It’s damn cute, not that Chuck’s going to admit it, and a nice gesture.

“Well, Mako, we outta get going. No doubt Raleigh will be back soon,” Herc says after a moment, and Chuck is surprised by how disappointed he is to lose their company, though the old man is probably right. Raleigh had better be home soon, and when he gets there… well, Chuck is hoping he’ll like the tree, but there’s no telling what kind of mood he’ll be in. Best not to have an audience in case it all goes south.

“Thank you,” he says, walking to them the door as they tug on their coats, and ducks his head a little when Herc looks at him with obvious pride. “Yeah, yeah, no need to get sappy on me,” he grumbles, well aware he’s fooling no one.

Sure enough, Herc and Mako aren’t gone for twenty minutes before Chuck sees headlights sweep through the front room. He’s dimmed the overhead light and left the tree lights on, and he can see the moment Raleigh walks around the Jeep and catches sight of the tree in the picture window. Chuck watches as he comes to a dead stop in the snow, a hand splayed on the hood of the car, his face totally blank. Suddenly the rum is churning in Chuck’s stomach and he shoves his feet into his hiking boots and slams out the front door, almost slipping on the step as he crosses the lawn.

Oh fuck, _oh fuck_ , Raleigh’s eyes are glistening and one quick blink releases the first tear down his cheek and Chuck doesn’t feel the cold because his heart is hammering and this is the exact opposite of what he wants and Yancy is going to kill him and Chuck doesn’t care because he deserves it.

“I’ll get rid of it, I’ll set it on fire, whatever you want, I’m so sorry, I just, I thought, I don’t know, I thought you’d like it even though you said you didn’t want one,” Chuck is babbling and he reaches out to cup Raleigh’s face in his palms, thumbing the tears away from his cold skin.

“Chuck, it’s perfect,” Raleigh murmurs, a wobbly smile appearing on his face.

“What?” Chuck says, thoroughly confused but immensely relieved when Raleigh steps closer to wrap his arms around Chuck’s waist.

“It’s perfect,” Raleigh says again, steadier this time, and Chuck exhales as his heart rate slows to a normal pace. “The tree, I can’t believe you did this.”

“What’s wrong then?” Chuck asks, letting one hand slide down to the curve of Raleigh’s neck, under the warmth of the knitted cable scarf looped around his throat.

“I just… I’ve been driving around for hours, feeling sorry for myself because my family is celebrating Christmas without me, but my family was right here the whole time.” Raleigh says, and Chuck doesn’t even try and resist the urge to kiss his sweetly smiling mouth.

“Course I’m here, ya daft bastard,” Chuck murmurs, grinning when Raleigh laughs. “Now, let’s get inside before I freeze my balls off, yeah?”

When they turn to make a much more leisurely trek up the front walk, Chuck reckons he was right. The tree looks fucking spectacular in the picture window. Still, he follows Raleigh closely into the living room, watching him closely for any signs of disappointment. He doesn’t get any. Raleigh’s face is open and damn near rapt as he walks up the tree, reaching out to brush his fingertips across one of the snowflake ornaments.

“Chuck, it’s beautiful. How did you do all this?”

“Had help, didn’t I. Herc and Mako, we had a pretty good evening out of it, in the end. Though I think you’ll have to do the shopping for the next while… there might have been an incident with Mako and the last tree stand.” Chuck says, and he can’t help but admire the way the twinkling lights catch the curve of Raleigh’s jaw. He takes advantage of Raleigh’s distraction to duck out of the room to gather some… supplies.

“Wait, what do you mean incident?” Raleigh calls as Chuck is rummaging in the hall closet for the sleeping bag.

“I mean strong words were exchanged, and in the end we got the stand and a dope in a Santa jumper was not happy,” Chuck’s voice is slightly muffled by down filled fabric as he comes back into the living room. Raleigh arches a brow, a sly smile on his face.

“Are we camping out?” he asks. The low light doesn’t quite hide Chuck’s blush as he shakes the cushioned blanket out across the carpeted floor in front of the tree.

“Piss off,” he smirks. “Get comfortable, Dad was mixing these bonzer cocktails earlier, I bet you could use one.” He retreats to the kitchen quickly to fix the drinks. Chuck measures out significantly less rum for himself considering the head start he’s got, and when he comes back to the living room he’s gratified to see that Raleigh is stretched out on the sleeping bag, propped up on his elbows with his gaze fixed on the tree.

“I really do love it, Chuck,” he says, sitting up a little when Chuck presses the tumbler into his hand. His eyebrows shoot up after the first sip. “Whoa, trying to get me drunk, Hansen?”

“Just trying to catch you up, I went easy on ya,” Chuck takes a sip of his own drink.

“Between your dad and Mako I’m not sure how we’re going to maintain liver function.” Raleigh says contemplatively.

“Too right,” Chuck laughs, but doesn’t offer any more. Instead he watches Raleigh as he downs his drink with a speed that belies his earlier complaints.

“I can’t believe you guys did all this,” he says quietly, reaching out to set his now empty glass on the coffee table. The _for me_ part is unsaid, but Chuck hears it all the same. He sets his own not quite finished drink aside, and leans over to cup Raleigh’s face. There are a million things he could say, but they get tangled in his throat. He wants to say that it wasn’t a hardship, couldn’t be when it makes Raleigh so happy, he wants to tell him that he’ll do anything to make him smile that way. Chuck wants to tell him about the rings he’s been thinking of, but the words always seem to disappear when he looks into those beautiful blue eyes.

So instead he leans in and captures that plush mouth with his own, delighted when Raleigh shivers under his touch and parts his lips at the first tentative swipe of Chuck’s tongue. Chuck deepens the kiss and slides one hand down the curve of Raleigh’s waist, rucking up his Henley and slipping calloused fingertips across warm skin. Raleigh moves his own hands up to cradle the back of Chuck’s skull, scrubbing gently through his hair and moaning softly into the kiss. Chuck pulls away just long enough to yank the shirt over Raleigh’s head and then immediately moves in again to mouth down the curve of that pale throat.

“Mmm, Chuck,” Raleigh laughs, a little breathlessly. “What-“ he stops with a gasp when Chuck nuzzles in under his chin to nip at the soft skin there.

“You know me, love,” Chuck murmurs. “Too impatient to wait til Christmas to open my present,” he puts a hand on the centre of Raleigh’s chest and pushes gently, mesmerized by the way those defined abs jump and flex as Raleigh takes the hint and lies back on the floor without bothering to brace himself with his hands, which are busy exploring the curves of Chuck’s shoulders.

“That was, mmm, so cheesy,” Raleigh says, arching his back with a sigh as Chuck nuzzles and strokes his way down to the waistband of his jeans.

“You got complaints?” Chuck asks as he palms Raleigh’s hips and presses firm kisses down the length of the zipper, delighting in the sounds he’s drawing out of the man underneath him. “I could stop…”

“Don’t you dare,” Raleigh says, a hint of steel in his tone that makes Chuck shiver. He laughs, but doesn’t spend any more time teasing, that’s not what he wants for tonight, and reaches over to pop the button of Raleigh’s jeans and slowly, slowly move the zipper down. Well, maybe a little bit of teasing. “Fuck,” Raleigh drawls, hips shifting impatiently as Chuck tugs the jeans and the boxers underneath off in one slow, smooth motion. He uses enough force toward the end to pull Raleigh’s wool socks off with them, and throws the bundle to the side. He doesn’t make a move to take off any of his own clothes, not yet. Starting at his ankles, Chuck strokes his hands up the length of Raleigh’s legs, moving to kneel between them as he does so. He sweeps his palms up to those sharp hip bones, before sliding them down to form a secure grip at the back of Raleigh’s thighs, pushing his legs apart and up. Raleigh moans loudly, just as Chuck anticipated, knowing how much it turns him on when Chuck holds him like this, exposed and vulnerable.

“Christ, love,” Chuck is just as turned on, sweeping his gaze across the length of that gorgeous body, and lingering on the sight of Raleigh’s thick cock, swollen and full against his belly. He licks his lips and leans down, pressing sucking, biting kisses to the tender skin just above his palms, heart thrumming as Raleigh whines and shifts in his grip. He nuzzles gently into the crease at his hip before taking pity on the bloke and lapping up the length of his cock before sucking the flared head into his mouth. Held open as he is, Raleigh doesn’t have the leverage to thrust up like he probably wants to, so Chuck bobs down, savouring the taste and heat of Raleigh’s skin, the sounds that are building in volume.

“Chuck, oh, Chuck,” Raleigh moans, and the sleeping bag rustles beneath him as his hands grip fistfuls of the material. “Please, please,” he pants.

“Please what?” Chuck pulls off and leans back just enough that he survey the effects his efforts have garnered. He licks his lips at the way Raleigh is fairly straining off the floor, trying to get closer to him.

“Need you,” Raleigh replies, tilting his chin down to meet Chuck’s gaze, biting on his plush lower lip and Chuck can’t hold back the growl that starts building deep in his chest. He may know how to turn Raleigh into a quivering mess, but Raleigh knows how to get what he wants, too. Chuck grabs the hem of his t-shirt and jerks it off before reaching down to yank open his belt and zipper and shimmy out of his trousers. He grabs the packet of lube he stashed in the front pocket before kicking them away, letting it drop to the blanket while he takes ahold of Raleigh’s legs again, settling them over his shoulders as he bends down to nip at tender flesh again.

Raleigh cries out when Chuck breaches him with one finger, heels pressing firmly into Chuck’s back while he opens him, moaning wantonly when Chuck adds a second finger.

“Yes, yes,” Raleigh chants, and Chuck can feel the muscles of his thighs flexing against his chest as he pushes deeper, harder, with three fingers now, angling them just _right_ and… “Oh, fuck!”

Chucks turns his head and presses a sucking kiss to the inside of Raleigh’s knee, hooked over his shoulder and perfectly positioned for access as Raleigh writhes beneath him, white knuckled grip on the blanket now. His skin feels hot and stretched tight, and he can’t remember the last time he was this desperate, he wants to get inside that tight heat _now_ , but even still there is no part of him that would risk hurting the man beneath him, and he continues his ministrations until he’s satisfied that Raleigh is ready. His own cock is aching and bobbing between his thighs, and Chuck grabs the lube once more and squirts some into his hand, giving himself a tight, slick pull before he starts to lower himself towards the panting, writhing body beneath him. He braces one hand on the floor next to Raleigh’s head and uses the other to guide his cock in, hesitating once the head is just barely pushing on that tight ring of muscle. Raleigh huffs impatiently at him, and gives a pointed wriggle of his hips.

“Come on,” he demands, and Chuck smirks at him before letting his hips push forward and they both moan as he slides in. Raleigh’s eyes flutter shut and his mouth drops open on a sigh as Chuck settles both hands on either side of his head and starts rocking his hips, pressing in inch by inch.

“So good,” Chuck murmurs. “Always so good for me, sweetheart,” he dips his head down to claim that mouth in a fierce kiss, and Raleigh releases his hold on the blanket and wraps his arms around Chuck’s neck, one hand reaching up to grab a fistful of Chuck’s hair. Chuck had planned on setting an easy pace, but with Raleigh’s legs over his shoulder the angle and depth of his thrusts is sending sparks down his spine, and he can’t help but pick up speed. He can tell from the sounds Raleigh’s making that he isn’t going to last long either, his cock leaking and twitching between their bellies. Chuck re-positions his knees so that he can thrust harder, faster, and Raleigh pulls away from the kiss, head thrown back and moaning loudly as he reaches between them with one hand to starts jacking himself with equal speed. It isn’t long before he cries out, body clenching around Chuck as he spills his release between them. Chuck grunts and fucks him through it, hips slamming home as the sounds and sensations drag him over the edge into his own orgasm.

Panting, Chuck let his forehead drop against Raleigh’s chest, stroking his palms up Raleigh’s thighs to guide them into a more comfortable position around his waist as he slumps against him. He can feel Raleigh’s heartbeat thundering beneath his cheek, and nuzzles in as strong arms wrap around his shoulders and hold him close.

Once his own heart rate has slowed and his breathing started to even out, Chuck turns and plants his chin between Raleigh’s pecs, looking up at his face and grinning at the dazed and happy expression he sees.

“So did you like your surprise?” he asks cheekily. Raleigh’s chest rumbles with a laugh beneath him, and Chuck can’t resist sliding up to capture that mouth again, slower and sweeter this time.

“It’s perfect,” Raleigh says.

They stay there for a long time, cuddling under the soft tree lights, and Chuck relishes in the sheer contentment that he can feel thrumming under Raleigh’s skin. Operation Save Christmas just might have a chance after all.

 

* * *

 

 

“So, are you going to tell me what happened yesterday?”

  
Chuck is still feeling optimistic the next morning. He’s pouring hot water into the French press, only pretending that he doesn’t see Raleigh sneaking a strip of bacon to Max, so he doesn’t miss the way Raleigh tenses at his question.

“I dropped Yance off at the train station,” Raleigh shrugs. Chuck fixes him with his best unimpressed stare, and the bloke just glares back mulishly.

“And then somehow it took you five hours to get back home. You get lost?” he says. Raleigh sighs, and huffs in surprise when Max nudges his way between his knees. He laughs a little, and reaches down to scrub a hand between the dog’s ears.

“We had a fight, sort of,” Raleigh admits, without looking up from Max. “I told him it was fine, but he kept pushing, trying to explain. He doesn’t need to explain, I get it. So I snapped, and he snapped back, and we tried to let it go but it was awkward, and tense. I hate that. It just felt so much like the fights we had when Mako and I first drifted. I know it’s not the same thing, but that was… I really thought I was losing him then.” He shrugs awkwardly.

Chuck remembers exactly what Raleigh is talking about. For months the Becket brothers had been at each other’s throats, in a way that made everyone uncomfortable and on edge. Chuck hadn’t even been particularly close with them at the time, but he felt a pang every time he saw them. He knows now how deeply that conflict had scarred Raleigh, and he curses himself for not seeing how those memories might be playing into this situation. He doesn’t say anything yet, waits to see if Raleigh will add anything more on his own.

“I just drove around for a while.” Raleigh says. “I didn’t want to come home in that kind of mood.”

Chuck can’t help but bristle at that, at the suggestion that Raleigh didn’t want Chuck to see him upset. He pushes that down, though, because he knows that if Raleigh had come home they could easily have gotten into a fight. It’s happened before. They’re hot heads, the both of them, not exactly in the same way, but some time alone to decompress is often key to keeping peace in the bungalow. He busies himself pulling two mugs down from the cupboard and pouring coffee. Truthfully, Chuck doesn’t know what to say, anyway. Advising someone on how to maintain a healthy relationship with family is not exactly his forte.

“Have you spoken to him since?” he asks, figuring that’s neutral enough.

“He texted me last night, let me know he got in okay.” Raleigh says. “I don’t want to bother him, it might look like I’m trying to interfere.”

“Hmm,” Chuck sets a steaming mug on the table in front of Raleigh, and takes a careful sip from his own cup. “I don’t think he’d see it as a bother.”

“Yeah, well,” Raleigh turns the mug around in his hands. “I’ll give him a call tomorrow maybe.”

Chuck doesn’t push anymore, just stretches his legs under the table under his ankle bumps Raleigh’s. Raleigh smiles down at his coffee cup, and bumps him back.

 

* * *

 

 

It’s early afternoon on Christmas Eve, and Chuck is scouring the oven in preparation for the next day’s turkey dinner when his phone starts ringing. He almost yells to Raleigh to grab it for him, then remembers that Raleigh had just left to take Max for a long walk. Grumbling, he drops the scrub brush on the open over door and yanks the yellow cleaning gloves off, but he almost fumbles and drops his phone when he sees that the caller is Yancy.

“Oi, mate, I happen to know you haven’t called Rals yet so-“

“Is… is this Chuck?” A voice that is decidedly not Yancy cuts him off, a voice that belongs to a young woman.

“Yes,” he says, perhaps a bit abrupt, but… “Who is this?”

“Oh, it’s Jazmine, um, Yancy and Raleigh’s sister.”

“Right,” Chuck grimaces. Whatever this is, it isn’t good, and he is officially not qualified for this shit.

“I’m sorry to call like this, but… I don’t know what to do.” She sounds nice, is the thing. Chuck has never met the youngest Becket, and despite all the understanding he has for her position, he’s in love with Raleigh, and Raleigh is hurting, and in his mind she’s taken on a few Disney villain traits.

“I don’t know if I’m the best person… wait, does Yancy know you’re calling me? How did you get his phone?”

“He’s in the shower. His passcode was not hard to crack,” Jazmine explains, and Chuck can’t help but smirk.

“Ha, I believe that.” He pauses, there are so many ways this could blow up in his face, but she called him, so… “What is it you want?”

“I didn’t think this through, or, I did, but I didn’t know it would be like this. Yancy is really bummed out, I mean, he’s obviously missing …. Raleigh, and I wasn’t trying to create drama, you know?”

“Yeah, believe it or not, but I do know a thing about fucked up family dynamics.” Chuck says. He tries to decide what he should say, what he can say without betraying Raleigh’s trust or making a bigger muck of things. “No one thinks you did this to create drama,” he adds, which seems safe enough. “I think… everyone gets that it’s complicated.”

“Everyone, huh?” Jazmine says dryly.

“Yes,” Chuck replies, a little sharply.

“Well, everyone’s not wrong, I guess,” Jazmine admits after a brief pause. “I miss him, too,” she says, so quiet Chuck has to strain to hear her. “I wasn’t sure… I said some things, to Raleigh, and…”

“Uh, well,” Chuck feels like he’ll break out into a cold sweat at any second. _Do not fuck this up_ is the only thought his brain supplies, but there are no follow up suggestions on how to accomplish that.

“I’m sorry, this is so awkward,” Jazmine laughs a little, and Chuck’s heart clenches.

“Too right,” he admits. “But, listen, don’t stress so much about what happened years ago. Shit happens, and you move on. It’s the only thing you can do, cuz if you hang onto to old dramas you’ll miss out on the big stuff.”

That seems about right. Anyway, it’s what Herc said to him after Pitfall, more or less, when Chuck was still swinging for the fences, and if it worked for him, well, there’s hope for anyone.

“Yeah,” Jazmine says, stronger this time.

“You could come here,” Chuck says impulsively. “I mean… we’re doing a dinner thing tomorrow, and that might be a bit much, but maybe just for a visit? You’d be welcome to stay, but if you need your own space we could get you a hotel room, or I guess we could go there, too…”

“I… do you think he’d like that?” Jazmine asks, and it’s so fucking heartfelt that Chuck has to swallow before answering. There’s no question who “he” is.

“Raleigh would love to see you.” Chuck says, and he knows it’s true.

“Maybe I could give him a call, tomorrow. You know, with him a merry Christmas, and tell him I’d like to visit.” Jazmine suggests, and Chuck grins.

“I think that would make both your brothers very happy,” he says.

 

* * *

 

 

Chuck feels a little bit like he’s in one of those spy movies. He’s not being dramatic, the stakes here are very high, and he can’t decide if he’s doing the right thing by not mentioning the phone call to Raleigh. It’s obvious that Chuck is keyed up, but that’s not unusual in the lead up to family functions, even if it’s just a small Christmas dinner with Herc and Mako, Chuck knows he has a tendency to get… stressed.

So while Mako and Raleigh and Herc are exiled from the kitchen after coffee and Baileys have been poured on Christmas Day, Chuck opens a bottle of wine. Just to calm his nerves. But it’s really good wine, and he keeps refilling his glass, and the kitchen is very warm, so when Raleigh comes in to check on things Chuck is a little flushed. And drunk. A very little drunk.

“Is everything okay?” Raleigh approaches with caution, eyes widening comically when he sees the almost empty bottle of Malbec. “Chuck,” his mouth turns down in concern. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, I was just thirsty,” Chuck waves a hand dismissively, but it’s the hand holding the potato masher, and the gesture is a bit too enthusiastic, and he sends bits of potato flying into Raleigh’s chest. There is a long silence as Chuck frowns at Raleigh in dismay and as Raleigh fixes him with his best _are you fucking kidding me right now?_ stare. It involves a lot of eyebrow and pursed mouth action. Chucks puts the masher down and hands Raleigh a napkin. Raleigh ignores the napkin in favour of using the outstretched hand to pull Chuck closer, placing a steadying hand on his hip when the sudden movement makes him stumble.

“What’s going on?” he asks again, and he’s starting to look genuinely worried and this is the opposite of what Chuck wanted and he starts wiping off Raleigh’s shirt.

“Nothing, honestly, I was just going to have a nip but that Malbec is really good and it is Christmas, Raleigh, and it’s really warm in here with the oven. I mean… oops?” Chuck looks up at Raleigh and smiles, and almost falls over in relief when Raleigh smiles back, fond and soft and Chuck tips his chin for a kiss and Raleigh doesn’t hesitate to oblige him.

“You are the best chef in the house, even totally sauced on red wine, but I’m not confident you aren’t going to burn the house down like this,” Raleigh laughs.

“Oi, what’s this, then?” Herc calls as he walks into the kitchen, waving his empty coffee mug at the mess.

“Um,” Chuck steps away from Raleigh’s embrace reluctantly, but is stopped from having to explain when Mako calls from the living room that Raleigh’s phone is ringing. “Oh! Quick, answer it!” he gives Raleigh a shove that is perhaps a bit too forceful by the way he rocks back on his heels.

“Oof, Jesus, Chuck!” Raleigh grumbles as he steadies himself. “It’s Christmas, I’m not worried about the phone.”

“What if it’s Yancy?” Chuck demands.

“I already spoke to Yancy this morning,” Raleigh reminds him. Chuck is really starting to panic now, Raleigh is going to fuck this up and he doesn’t even know it. Mako appears in the doorway, the device in her hand.

“He might be calling again!” Chuck makes a shoo-ing gesture, and Raleigh narrows his eyes suspiciously, but reaches out to take the phone from Mako.

“Oh, it is Yancy,” he mutters as he swipes to answer. “Hi Yance, I…” he stops, and his shoulders stiffen and jump towards his ears in a way that does not escape Herc and Mako’s notice. Raleigh glances at Chuck quickly, his expression unreadable, before he marches out of the kitchen and down the hall to their bedroom, phone held tightly to his ear.

“Well,” Chuck grabs the wine bottle off the counter and takes a swig, smiling beatifically at the horrified look Herc shoots him. “Who wants to mash the potatoes?”

 

 

After Mako not-so-subtly pours him a tall glass of water, Chuck cracks open the kitchen window and finds the blast of winter air helps to sober him up a little. When Raleigh still hasn’t emerged after half hour, Chuck makes his way down to their room to check on him. Raleigh is sitting on the edge of the bed, looking down at the phone clasped loosely in his hand. Chuck lingers in the doorway, unsure of his welcome, of what Raleigh is thinking and feeling right now, and clears his throat. Raleigh jerks at the sound, and turns to look at him, face blank for a long moment before holding out a hand to Chuck, who closes the distance between them gratefully.

“So I guess you know who that was,” Raleigh says after Chuck takes a seat next to him. Chuck doesn’t know what to say, but before he can offer any excuses, Raleigh bumps his shoulder. “It’s okay. Jaz told me that she called you. Now I know why you were so worked up.”

“I didn’t know what to do,” Chuck says. “I didn’t want to get your hopes up in case she didn’t call, but I didn’t want you to be blindsided, either. Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Raleigh says softly. “I am. It was good. She’s going to come down with Yancy, when he comes back.”

“That’s good,” Chuck says, and Raleigh smiles.

“Yeah, it is.” He leans in and presses a soft kiss to Chuck’s brow. “Thank you, babe.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Chuck protests, but Raleigh shakes his head, expression fierce.

“Yes, you did. You made Christmas happen, Chuck, and not only that, but you… You are so good to me. I can’t believe you did all this. Not just the tree, but everything, with Yance, and Jaz,” Raleigh reaches out and strokes his knuckles across the curve of Chuck’s jaw, and Chuck doesn’t care if the house burns down around them, there’s no way he could look away from Raleigh’s gaze right now. “It doesn’t matter where we are, if you’re there… I’m home.”

“Raleigh,” Chuck feels like his heart is going to hammer straight out of his chest and his palms are sweaty but he reaches out for Raleigh’s hand anyway, and his grip is probably too tight, but he can’t let go. “Marry me.” Nothing has ever felt as right as saying those words, and Chuck watches as Raleigh’s lips part on a gasp and his eyes are shining and Chuck just _knows_ what’s going to happen next.

“Chuck,” Raleigh says, a little watery, and his hand is shaking in Chuck’s, and Chuck smiles at him.

“I love you,” he says. “Marry me.”

“Yes,” Raleigh whispers, and for the second time in a week he’s crying and Chuck wipes his tears and pulls him close, but this time he’s smiling, and there’s no panic or fear that he’s done everything wrong, because somehow, he got it right. “Chuck,” he says his name like it’s a revelation, and Chuck kisses his damp cheeks and then his mouth and-

“Oh fuck, I don’t have the rings yet,” Chuck says, pulling away and looking so dismayed that Raleigh immediately starts laughing. “Oi,” Chuck frowns, but he can’t hold onto anything except for how fucking _happy_ he is, and he starts laughing, too. They can’t stop looking at each other in wonder, with small touches and soft laughter, and they might have stayed that way all afternoon if a slightly acrid smell didn’t drift into the room. “Oh hell, the cranberry sauce!”

Mako and Herc are suitably chastened when Chuck brandishes the charred saucepan, and Chuck is working his way up to a full strop when he catches sight of Raleigh in the doorway, watching him with such completely contentment that he drops the saucepan in the sink without further ado.

“Ah, fuck the cranberry sauce,” he says, to stunned looks from Mako and Herc. “Dinner will be just fine without it.”

So Operation Save Christmas worked out, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I don't even know. Halfway through this I got distracted by plot bunnies for a prequel about the Knifehead/new co-pilot/fight with Jazmine stuff so I lost some of my concentration, if that's any excuse for what happened here. Also, I had not intended to end it with Chuck's proposal, but out of nowhere he was all "I'M DOING IT" and he could not be stopped.


End file.
